


Speak No Evil

by MyFakeNameIsCee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: High School, Human Karkat Vantas, M/M, Mute John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFakeNameIsCee/pseuds/MyFakeNameIsCee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider has been dating John Egbert for almost a year, but after an accidental comment regarding his boyfriend's disability things start to deteriorate in their relationship, can Dave fix everything an make up with John? Or will an awful breakup occur, hurting everyone involved?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak No Evil

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a mention in my skype chat that mute!John used to be a thing, I was inspired and whipped this first chapter up within a month.

     The most hated person in highschool. That's what you are, you'd think people could be a little more sensitive about a drastic changing point in someone's life. Like a great big red sign should be shining above someone's head to tell you, whatever you're harassing them about? You don't know the whole story. Shut up. You have no right to assume and judge.

  
     But you do know the whole story, you were part of it. The phrase “In love with my best friend” is common, it's used as a movie trope, like being best friends is the cure-all for faulty romances, like the fact two people have known each other since they were children will make them any less susceptible to the emotional pain caused when some _idiot_ makes dumb choices because he's naive. He thinks he's invincible, immune to pain. Well newsflash kid, hiding behind a pair of old worn shades isn't going to save you forever, it's going to fuck up your life.

  
     Be careful. Don't fall in love with your best friend.

  
     Don't fall in love with John Egbert.

  
     Your name is Dave Strider and you can't take your own fucking advice.

 

* * *

 

     Today is a day like any other ,you returned from school got on your computer, and called John after a bit of back and forth messages over why you're not going to do your homework today. He signs vehemently from the other side of the skype window, the blurry camera obstructs your view so you can't tell if he's talking about a new movie or a new video game. You chuckle internally and successfully resist the urge to smile.  
  
     Little buck teeth, messy black hair, glasses that lay on his face a bit lopsided so he has to push them up every so often; John Egbert is really cute.  
  
     Your boyfriend is really cute.  
  
     John pounds on the table from his side of the screen and his visuals give a light jolt when the camera moves. His hands flash quickly and you realize he's signing your name.  
  
    “Dave!”  
  
     You quirk an eyebrow at him. “The one and only.” you reply vocally.  
  
     Video chatting or communicating properly in general has never been the easiest for the two of you, John's been mute for about four years; all that time ago during the fateful car crash that cruelly ripped the words form his mouth, his mother was taken away from him in the blink of an eye. At first you thought his silence was grief, but time passed and it was revealed that his vocal chords had been damaged in the wreck. At the time you had assured John he would get through it and things would get better.  
  
     And he did get through it.  
  
     You even learned sign language together, a couple of his friends picked it up, and those who didn't drifted away. The people who took the time to learn it so they could keep being John's friends are very dear to him, and you might not get along with all of them, but the smile on his face around them makes you tolerate them.  
  
     After almost a year, you and John had learned enough ASL, and continued to use it on a frequently enough basis that you could say at the least simple sentences. John was far more adept.  
That day he asked you out for the first time. He was smiling. You've been dating ever since.  
  
     John's not smiling at the moment, instead his brows are furrowed together like a little caterpillar and his cheeks are puffed up in a weak pout like a child. He frustrating signs some words at you. The hands that blur across the screen are a whirlwind of anger and irritation as you _think_ he's regaling some annoying thing that happened to him at school today, he moves too fast for you to understand much of what he's trying to convey, but in honesty you're only half-paying attention anyway.  
  
     Tomorrow is the anniversary of the accident. You still don't know how to handle that.

 

     Glancing at your screen through opaque mirror shades you nonchalantly make a stopping motion with your arms in an “X”.  
“hold on slow down babe you're going a bit fast I can hardly understand you”  
  
     He rolls his eyes and the garbage webcam you use to see each other lags the video feed so the stunning blue of his eyes lags and buffers. It's really bullshit, it doesn't do him justice. You should really get him a better camera. John drags out each motion and the flicks of hand as if to mock you.  
  
    “Are. You. Listening. To. Me?”  
  
     The words come out before you think. “john there's nothing for me to listen to”  
  
     His face falls instantly and the visible pain that wipes across his features triggers your realization.  
  
 _Shit. Shit._ _ **Shit.**_  
  
     John's always been sensitive about his whole mute issue, you know this and you  still went and said some asshole thing like that! Hell his last girlfriend broke up with him over it! (Stupid spider bitch complains about how she can't understand him and then never bothers to learn anything to remedy that, she even blamed him! Who does that?)  
  
     John's hand jerk slowly to catch your attention. Fingers brush against his forehead in a quick goodbye and the image of his face cuts out before you can say anything. The call drops, the icon next to his name grays out. He's offline.  
  
     You're about to spend the next hour apologizing aren't you?  
  
     Fuck.

 

* * *

 

     Apologizing is what you're attempting to do anyway. You know you made a mistake, to insult John like that, even unintentionally, a day before the date of the accident? You wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't forgive you for this one. You had sent about every version of a “please forgive me” speech you can think of and dumped them in his skype window.

  
     You even almost grovel.

  
     Dave Strider doesn't grovel.

  
     Still John is unresponsive. A tiny pencil took a fleeting dance across the screen, but quickly forgot itself and then disappeared as if never there in the first place. It's the only proof you have that he even began to read your apologies, nonetheless he refuses to talk to you. Or in his case you guess it'd just be really mad jazz hands again. Haha.

 

 _Wait no shit stop brain you aren't helping. Let's try **not** to make fun of the only person who won't think it's funny. _ (Well that isn't entirely true, the uptight snooze of a scream-machine he for some reason takes advice from would chew you out for it. You think his name is Vantas.) Christ you don't understand why John's friends with him. Maybe they watch silent movies together, more mute people for John to be around. _Wow asshole really you need to stop_ you think. John isn't even here and you can feel every stab of the shovel in the sand digging your grave, you're just making things worse.

  
     He'll forgive you tomorrow. You've got an idea that may just make it happen.

  
     Hopefully.  


* * *

 

     The next day you stroll into school and poke your head through John's math class doorframe. Time to put your plan into action.  
  
     In the corner, closest to the teacher's desk and up front near the board is where you spot John. He rummages through his bookbag and glances up every so often to listen to some kid next to his desk rant about one thing or another.

     “Egbert, yo.” you call out.  
  
      John turns in his chair and gives a noticeable sigh. His extremities ask you a question.  
     “What do you want?”  
  
     “To apologize.” you sign out, only you and the boy next to John seem to recognize the subtle nuances that give away he's touched; even if he's still angry with you, he appreciates whenever you use sign language. It proves you actually gave a damn about anything you learned and retained it, just for him.  
He gives you a once-over, as if deciding whether or not he wants to forgive you. John waves you over with a tanned hand and beckons you to his desk. “Fine, I'll hear you out.” his hands say.  
  
     A small glimmer of hope makes itself known, despite the metaphorical spring in your step this hope gives you, your prized signature Strider stoicy is skillfully retained. You spent all night figuring out these hand movements, it better work.  
  
     Your left hand moves in a circle over your chest. “I'm sorry” you start out simply and silently. You almost stumble over the next part, the grunts of concentration you make attracts the attention of the ginger asshole by John. The boy who you assume is the “Karkat” John has told you about smirks, as if he knows what you're trying to do. He probably does, being the romantic go-to guru, but that thought doesn't help. Well don't say anything freckle face, some of us people are trying to fix some misunderstandings.  
  
     Back to apologizing.  
  
Motion a hand away from your mouth.  
A shake of a finger.  
Fist on the throat.  
Point to yourself.  
Guessing a bit.  
Improvise the word “like”.

Point to John.  
  
     You continue like this, you think your doing well. Or, maybe not? John has a look of complete betrayal and disappointment ghosting his face. Karkat gawks at you, utterly appalled. John turns to him and makes some gestures to Karkat, just out of your line of view.  
  
     “Yeah he fucking deserves it too, I'll take care of Dave.”  
  
     Fuck what's wrong _this_ time?  
  
     Karkat grabs your bicep and drags you out into the hallway, teeth grinding. You can almost see smoke billow comically out of his ears from under orange locks. Through gritted teeth he glares at you with dark eyes, you'd never thought such a dull, boring color of brown could be so intimidating.  
  
     “What the everloving _fuck_ was that Strider? Are you purposefully trying to think of the worst ways to piss off John until he loses it? Are you purposefully cramming him into a run-down emotional roller coaster in which the rails are rusted and the cart is falling apart at the seams? Are you then hammering the supports for the emotion roller coaster and seeing how long it takes for the pillars to fall?” Karkat seethes with fury, he look like this 24/7 so you don't think anything of it.  
  
     “I don't see what the problem is Vantas, can you ease up and pull your fist from where it is so uninvitingly forced down my throat?”  
  
     “NO!”  
  
     You blink from behind your shades, you didn't think he'd keep talking.  
  
     “Don't you see what the problem is?!” He screams at you, it was so shrill you may he busted an eardrum. “You just thanked John for being mute because you enjoy not having to listen to him you ass!”  
  
     fuck.  
 _**FUCK.** _  
     That's not what you wanted at all. Not even close.  
  
     I'm sorry. I like you mute, I like you as you. I may not hear you, but I do love you.  
  
     Shit. How could three sentences go so wrong?

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing for JohnDave, it was also my first time writing for Dave in general, I attempted to keep Dave likeable, as the entire work is seen through his eyes as the protagonist, but still human, people make mistakes, mistakes are often fogiven. Let's hope Dave's mistake is too.


End file.
